The Pain of We (ON HOLD)

8

I walked in the house, tip toeing around and shutting the door without noise. Dad was passed out on the couch and I hoped he'd stay that way.

I stepped into the kitchen and peeked in the fridge for anything to eat. I settled on cold pizza—no way in hell I'd dare to use the microwave—and went upstairs. I shut the door to my room, letting out a huge breath.

I'm safe for tonight.

...
Waking up in the morning, I didn't want to get up. But I had to.

I stood up and jogged down the stairs and got a glass of water for my father. I went back upstairs and peeked into his room. He was snoring. I stepped around the mounds of clothes and tried not to step on any ash trays.

I picked up his old beer bottles and cans and set down the glass of water.

I went back downstairs, deciding whether or not to start making breakfast. I'll wait a little.

I eyed the phone on the wall, so tempted.

I dialed your number, holding my breath.

"Hello?" Your gruff voice answered, tired and heavy with sleep. It cracked a little.

I smiled. "Did I wake you?" I looked at the time and sat on the counter. "I guess it's a little earlier than I thought..."

You laughed. "Naw it's cool. Did you dad bite your head off when you got home?" I heard the sheet shuffle on your end.

"He was asleep. But he'll be up soon."

"Oh, do you need to hang up?"

I stood up and grabbed the carton of eggs from the fridge. "No, it's fine. I'll cook and talk." I grabbed a pan from a cabinet and set it on a burner. I leaned on the counter while waiting for the pan to heat up.

"What happened when you got home?" I asked, curious.

"Nothing much. My sister had come home for the weekend. My mom was actually surprised at how early I came home."

I smiled at that and cracked an egg in the skillet. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. I'm not normally home until much later. Plus I didn't have a girl come home with me..."

I nodded and watched as the egg sizzled. I bit my lip, deciding to change the subject. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

You thought for a second. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. I think it'd be fun to be an actor. Pretend to be someone else for a while..." You trailed off. "What about you?"

I flipped the eggs. "I want to be—"

My father walked into the kitchen and I thumbled with the phone. "I've got to go, Jarsen, I'll call you later." I hung up.

"Good morning," I said to him. "Eggs will be done in a bit."

He grumbled a response and took a swig of whiskey. I grabbed a plate and slid two eggs on it, handing it over to my father.

"Did you have a good time at the party?" He asked, taking a bite of eggs.

I nodded. "It was fine. You were asleep when I got back."

He nodded, ending the conversation.

...
I spent the first half of the day cleaning. While my father sat on the couch in the living room, I cleaned his room and his bathroom. Taking his dirty clothes downstairs the phone started to ring. I sat down the hamper on the table and picked up the phone.